Shadows Over Vergendorf
by ShadyDeadMan
Summary: Geralt is offered a contract he can't refuse. But the situation quickly spirals out of control and the witcher is left fighting for his life against an enemy he can't hope to defeat. Takes place after the Witcher 2 in a horror setting.
1. Chapter 1

Shadows Over Vergendorf

Prologue:

For a Fistful of Diamonds

Midday, Midwinter, The Merchants Counting House Inn, The City of Lan Exeter, The Winter Capital of the Northern Kingdom of Kovir

"The infamous White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. It is indeed an honour to meet you at long last. I trust my message reached you without too much trouble. But of course it must have or you wouldn't be here. I believe introductions are in order. To my right is the right honourable merchant and gemstone dealer Eric Beaufontaine, to my left is the honourable Baron of the Town of Vergendorf Gustav Kalavnikov, the two gentlemen behind me are Septimus Steinburg the honourable mayor of Vergendorf, and Philius Gasparov the honourable knight and captain of the Vergendorf militia. I am the honourable Lord Bartholomew Goldberg, Chief Councilman of Vergendorf and advisor to the Baron. This charming young lady at my side is the honourable sorceress Persephone Kandrell. She is the only reason we were able to make the journey through the fog, although she could not lift it entirely.

As you can imagine, it is in the direst of circumstances that we find ourselves in the position where we are forced to make a hundred mile journey from the north in the middle of winter to consult with a renowned Witcher. You may think that we are perhaps overstating the importance of this meeting. But you will see once we make our case that your services are in desperate demand, perhaps more so now than anything you have ever encountered before.

I will start by saying that our small city of some mere twenty five thousand souls has become a breeding ground for the most villainous scoundrels ever to walk the north. It is a hive of mystery and deceit, of intrigue and murder. The whole city seems to have been driven mad with bloodlust. Neighbour turns against neighbour, family turn against their own kin. The prison is bursting at the seams with every kind of criminal scum imaginable. But we know these people, Vergendorf used to be a very welcoming and friendly city, the last stop in this part of the north before one reaches the Dragon Mountains.

Witchcraft is rampant. Indeed the very skies themselves have turned black. We haven't seen the sun in weeks. A thick black unnatural fog surrounds the town and the countryside, almost nothing comes and nothing goes. Anyone that has left the city since the fog appeared hasn't returned. We were fortunate that Miss Kandrell settled in the city, otherwise we too would have been trapped there. But as you can imagine, once our business is concluded here we must return with haste while we still have a town. What say you Master Witcher, can you help us in our hour of need."

Geralt sat back in his chair, studying the small crowd who had gathered around him. He took a long gulp of warm frothy ale and placed the tankard down on the table. He looked over the group, his eyes going from one to the other as he scrutinized them. The merchant was an old man of considerable girth, probably balding under his fancy wide brimmed peacock feathered hat. Like the others his clothes were designed to impress and screamed of opulence. Geralt wondered how many families could be fed with the price of the entourage's clothes alone. The merchant seemed nervous, as though he was about to part with something against his will. Geralt could only guess at the man's part in this little scheme. Geralt gestured towards an empty chair while looking the merchant in the eyes. The man took out a lace handkerchief and wiped his sweaty brow, seemingly nervous to have caught the Witcher's attention. He gladly took the chair at the end of the table and slumped down relieved to have taken his considerable weight off his legs. He continued to sweat profusely as the others each occupied an empty seat.

Next he studied the Baron, though just briefly. The man was fiftyish with a wicked set of claw marks down his left cheek. Three four inch long gashes that looked as though they must have reached the bone underneath. The Baron seemed to notice the Witcher staring at him and suddenly grew quite anxious, his hand going up to the scars and tracing them with his fingertips along their full length. The Baron wore no hat, preferring to show his full head of thick grey hair off in what can only be described as a basin cut. Geralt imagined the man sitting while a nervous barber stuck a pot over his head and trimmed around it. A faint wicked smile grew on the Witcher's face. The Baron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, obviously a man used to being in control and not being studied by the hired help. The Baron gestured to one of the serving maids and ordered two bottles of the finest wine in the house, along with six glasses and a tankard of ale for Geralt. Geralt nodded his approval and thanks. The serving maid poured the wine for the waiting companions who eagerly took sips from their glasses.

The Mayor of Vergendorf was a stick thin pencil of a man, standing almost six and half feet tall. He must have been seventy at least. The few remaining tufts of wispy grey hair were combed across his bald head. His clothes were all velvet and lace. Obviously he had spared no expense to appear like something out of a stage play. He had a habit of rubbing his finger against the side of his nose whenever anybody spoke to him.

The knight stood out among the men present as the only one visibly wearing a sword on his belt and adorned in black leather armour from head to toe. He was a man in his mid forties. A confident and Geralt judged arrogant man who was probably quick to point out his finer qualities to anyone who would listen. He wore his hair short, shaved to within a knife's edge of his scalp.

The Lord was a jovial kind of fellow, slightly overweight and struggling to fit into his tight travelling attire. He was probably the youngest of the men. Geralt estimated early thirties. He had a habit of smiling at everything anyone said to him.

The sorceress was typical of her kind. She looked to be in her mid twenties, but looks were deceiving and Geralt could only take a wild guess at her true age. She was undoubtedly attractive, with straight blonde hair down to below her waist. Her riding outfit fitted her perfectly. Geralt followed the contours of body up to her breasts and suddenly realized she was watching him in return. She simply raised an eyebrow and gave him a venomous look.

"Gentleman and my lady, it is my guess that you have a rogue sorcerer on the loose. A powerful one to be sure. Depending upon the terms you offer I may accompany you back to your city, should we be able to agree upon a satisfactory contract."

The Merchant cleared his throat, coughing and spluttering as he did so. "You may not be aware of the fact that Vergendorf sits on top of one of the most productive gold and gemstone mines in the Dragon Mountains. With each day that passes, myself and my business partners are loosing tens of thousands of orens because the miners insist the mines are haunted and filled with beasts. And they simply refuse to work until the matter is resolved. We are desperate Master Witcher. The mines are the lifeblood of the city, without them running at maximum capacity, we face a harsh winter. People will go hungry. Desperation will set in and lead to even more trouble. To get our mines working again and to rid us of this accursed dark sorcery we are prepared to offer you a very high fee."

The Merchant reached into an inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a small bag. He untied the bag and turned it upside down. Geralt smiled as twenty gemstones fell on the table in front of him.

"Each stone has been expertly cut by myself and will fetch at least a thousand Orens to the right buyer. We propose to pay you five stones now if you agree to travel back with us. And a further fifteen stones once we arrive in Vergendorf. That's at least twenty thousand Orens before you even lift a finger to help us. Upon successful completion of the given task, which is the removal of all harmful sorcery from the City of Vergendorf and the surrounding countryside. You will be presented with a case of two hundred and fifty diamonds like the ones before you. That's a total of two hundred and fifty thousand Orens. This is undoubtedly the largest sum you are ever likely to be offered for your services. Are we in agreement Master Witcher, will you help us take back our city from this sorcerous blight."

"How could I possibly refuse such a generous offer? But I would ask that you provide a further five thousand Orens, coins not diamonds, for expenses."

"That's it, an extra five thousand Orens, you don't wish to haggle like you Witcher's are so famous for?"

"I believe for once, the haggling won't be necessary."

"Then we have a deal, Geralt. Five Thousand Orens now along with five diamonds. Fifteen more diamonds once we arrive in the city. And your payment in full once the contract is satisfactorily completed. Then our business is concluded, Master Witcher." The Merchant said as he counted out a bag of five thousand Orens and took five of the diamonds from the table, placing them in another small bag. The rest of the diamonds he placed in the original bag and tucked in into the deep pockets of his coat. He handed the large bag of Orens and the small bag of diamonds to Geralt, who smiled wickedly in return.

"Now if you don't mind, Geralt we are all famished from our long journey. Can I interest you in a full meal washed down with the finest wine." The merchant questioned, seemingly eager to get started on a mammoth size meal.

"If we are leaving in the morning I should prepare. I've got provisions to buy and specialist equipment that I will need. I also have other business to take care of while we are in Lan Exeter. I will find you later, if you haven't retired for the night. Good day to you, Gentlemen, my lady."

Within seconds Geralt was stood outside in the falling snow. He buttoned his thick bearskin hooded travelling cloak and pulled the hood over his head. He checked his twin blades on his back to ensure he could draw them easily. He checked the four daggers at his waist, two silver and two steal. He looked down at the ground, already the snow was almost level with his knee high travelling boots.

Geralt set off up the narrow street, three and four storey buildings all around him. The traffic on the street was exceptionally light. Here and there children played in the snow. Several times he was blasted with snow balls as the giggling children ran off shouting. Luckily most of the stores he intended to visit were open for business. His first stop was the stables where he checked on his horse and pack mule. Ebony and Ivory lived up to their names. The Stallion Ebony was jet black with no other colouring. Ivory was plain white with black socks and a black snout. He missed Roach, but the two horses had grown on him over time and he had come to welcome their company on the long roads while travelling. He haggled with the stable keeper for a good twenty minutes and finally reached a price on some new saddles, new saddle blankets and feed for the horses during the journey north. His next stop was the general goods store, a particularly well stocked travellers shop. He bought a one man tent and several thick blankets, a backpack and general goods such as a shovel for the snow, pots and pans for cooking and all manner of other items he wondered if he would ever use but seemed like a good idea to have them to hand. After a fairly brutal round of bartering they settled the bill at just over five hundred Orens.

Next stop was the Apothecary. He stocked up on all manner of ingredients for his much needed potions. The final bill was over three thousand Orens. He carried the four sackfulls of ingredients out of the store, pleased with his purchase. He'd stocked up on potions before travelling north so already had a very good selection but it couldn't hurt to be prepared to make more if necessary. Afterall there was no way of knowing how long he would be gone for. He dropped off everything he had bought at his room at the inn and then continued walking around the city in the ever increasing snow drifts.

His next stop was at the Express Courier Service, he wrote out a long message for Vesemir explaining the situation and asking for any possible help Vesemir and the other Witchers could offer for an equal share of the final payment. He just somehow knew it would be necessary. This wasn't going to be easy or quick and would require the best help he could find. He paid the courier master an extra two hundred Orens and urged him to get the message delivered to Kaer Morhen as soon as possible.

By the time he had finished at the couriers he had a little over a thousand Orens left from the expenses that the Merchant had given him. Next was the tailors, where he bought several sets of clothes, nothing fancy but practical, like travelling gear.

Next he visited the bank where he deposited to his safe deposit box, the five diamonds the Merchant had given him, three emeralds, six rubies and twelve small sapphires that he had been carrying since his last job. He also took out a bag of three thousand five hundred Orens and deposited that as well. By the time he was finished he had roughly two thousand Orens left in total. It was enough to stock up on travelling rations for several weeks and pay what he owed for rent and lodging at the inn. If he needed money once he arrived in Vergendorf, he could cash in the fifteen diamonds he was yet to be paid.

He returned to his room at the inn. He took out two large carrying cases and opened them on the bed. Inside were fifty small potion vials in each case. He counted through them noting which vials where in need of replenishing. When he was satisfied with the result of his counting he made a mental note of which he needed, he could do that later before they left. It would be something to occupy his mind. He could only imagine the dangers that lay in wait for him once he reached Vergendorf. But he had prepared as much as he could. Now it was a matter of waiting until they left. He was eager to be on his way. Too much time to think only complicated matters. He set to work preparing those potions he needed. Several hours later he had finished and was ready for something to eat and a warm ale to wash it down with.

The rest of the day went without incident. Geralt retired early to bed and slept well until dawn.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews, the alerts and the favourites. It's always good to see that some people enjoy the story. Please let me know how you think the story is going and how it can be improved.

Chapter 1:

Leaving Lan Exeter

Geralt awoke from a deep dream filled slumber. For some strange reason he had dreamt of the sorceress Persephone. He wasn't sure what it was about sorceresses that attracted him, but it was obvious from past exploits that he had a great weakness for them. Perhaps he was reading too much into it, it was only a dream afterall. Geralt stretched out on the mattress and leisurely kicked the woollen blanket off so it rested on the end of the bed. The first rays of early morning sunlight shone through the open window. He wondered how long it would last before the snow started falling again. It would undoubtedly prove a hindrance during their journey.

Something was starting to bother Geralt. It was for the moment just a nagging doubt. But he silently cursed himself for not getting his contract written out and signed by the Vergendorf party. That would be the first order of business for today. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, they all seemed very sincere. But something was just wrong about this whole business. Nobody handed over two hundred and fifty thousand Orens. At least not in his past experience. Maybe he should have considered the contract a little more closely before agreeing to go with them. But he had been so attracted by all those sparkling diamonds that his usual sense for danger was being ignored.

Geralt walked over to the wooden chair where he had thrown his clothes the night before. He quickly dressed in yesterdays clothing, shirt, trousers and boots. He took a single steel dagger from the table where his weapons were neatly laid out in a careful display. He placed the dagger in its sheath and wandered over to the mirror hanging on the wall next to the bed. He looked into the mirror and swept his long white hair back into a ponytail and tied it. He looked around the room at his growing collection of possessions, and decided he would load the horses up with his gear after speaking to the Vergendorfers and having a full cooked breakfast.

To his surprise as he wandered into the busy morning inn, all of the Vergendorfers were already sat around one of the tables. The table was full to bursting with all manner of bowels and dishes of various foods. There was bacon, egg, mushrooms, beans and warm freshly cooked bread. There were soups of various flavours such as vegetable, chicken, tomato and potato. There were tankards and flagons of ale and delicate wine glasses for the more discerning taste. Geralt felt himself licking his lips in anticipation. The Chief Councilman, Bartholomew Goldberg turned to the Witcher with a broad smile. That smile again, what was he hiding behind that smile. Geralt wondered if he was just being overly suspicious. Perhaps he was just the friendly type, but Geralt doubted it. He'd seen his kind before and his immediate senses told him to be wary of that one, only time would tell if he were right. The Councilman briefly interrupted piling a large chunk of bacon into his mouth and heartily waved Geralt over to the table.

"Good morning, Master Witcher. Or do you prefer Geralt now we are all on first name terms." The fat Councilman wiped the dripping fat from his mouth and chin on the back of his hands and gestured to Geralt to sit in one of the spare chairs. Geralt was glad to see the whole party had chosen more appropriate travelling garb than they were wearing the previous day. All wore riding boots and trousers. All had heavy fur or woollen travelling cloaks for the cold journey ahead. At least they didn't look like the pampered noble peacocks of the royal court that they had appeared to be yesterday.

"Geralt will be fine, Lord Goldberg." Geralt answered in reply as he took the offered seat.

"Please my good fellow, call me Bartholomew. There's no need for you to stand on ceremony while you're around our friendly little group. And please help yourself to this wondrous breakfast the good lady cook has prepared most excellently for our humble party," the Councilman said between smiles and filling his fat face with great enthusiasm.

"Let the man eat, Bartholomew, he must be absolutely ravenous by now." The Mayor of Vergendorf, Septimus Steinburg squeaked in a high pitch almost girlish manner. As yesterday he rubbed his nose nervously whenever he spoke to anyone. He appeared more than a little pale, as though all the colour had been drained from his gaunt and weathered features. Although it could have been the considerable amount of makeup the man was wearing, with his cheeks brushed almost white.

"Of course, Septimus, I'm nattering away like an old maid and the man must be starving. Help yourself, Geralt. There is more than enough for everyone. Eat well Geralt, for the day ahead will be a long one without much time for rest or lunch. Depending upon how hazardous the snow on the road to Vergendorf is, will determine how long it will take to get there. With the wagons, coaches and our honourable cavalry guard it is likely we won't do more than twenty miles a day. So at a push we should reach Vergendorf in about five days providing all goes well. Although we are provisioned for a whole month, just to be on the safe side. And while I remember it, your contract. It completely slipped my mind yesterday. It has been signed by the six of us and needs only your signature to complete, as well as our copy. So if you could be so good as to sign both copies, my good fellow. Of course you should read them first. I wouldn't want you to sign anything you were unaware of." The Councilman said as he wiped his greasy hands on a cloth and handed Geralt both copies of the contract to sign.

Geralt took the contracts and placed them on the table at the side of his plate which he had been filling with food. He read through them slowly and carefully as he ate, going back several times to make certain he understood what was written. After five minutes or so he had finished reading. The Councilman handed him a quill and ink pot and waited, still smiling, for Geralt to hand back the documents. Just as he had handed over the contracts, a great rush of cold air swept through the inn as a wild eyed young messenger lad burst through the door. He ran straight over to Geralt's table and addressed the Councilman.

"My Lord, you asked to be informed if there was any news from the north. The northern gate sergeant at arms sent me to tell you what's going on." The boy blustered as he rushed to get his words out and form a coherent sentence.

"Now then young urchin, tell me what the good sergeant told you to say and there's twenty Orens in it for you." The Councilman said grinning like a cat. The boy's face lit up with delight at the mention of money.

"There's people, my Lord. Hundreds of people outside the northern gate. And they reckon there's more coming, maybe thousands. Ref…, refug …, refugees the sergeant called them. He said they told him of all manner of strange goings on. The people reckon they're running for their lives. Beasts and monsters and the walking dead threaten all the towns and villages between here and Vergendorf. Something about them being driven out of their lairs by evil dark magic. They've got wounded and dead in the wagons. The sergeant won't let them in because they might spread the plague or something worse. So they are all camped outside the walls begging to be let in. Word has gone to the Count and the ruling council but until then nobody else is being let into the city. He said to tell you that once you leave you won't be allowed back in until the Count gives permission." The shivering boy said as he stood there in his moth eaten hole filled clothes.

"Well done, lad. Here's a hundred orens, go and get yourself some warm clothes, boy, before you freeze to death." The boy looked at the coins bewildered. Likely he had never seen so much money in his entire life. He thanked the Councilman and shot off through the open door, slamming it shut behind him.

"It is worse than we expected, Bartholomew. The whole land rises against us. Whatever foul evil is at work it will not rest until all of Kovir is threatened by this dreadful menace." Said the Baron of Vergendorf, Gustav Kalavnikov.

"Are you certain you wish to return in such circumstances? Perhaps it will be better if I travel alone with a small escort to Vergendorf. While there is still danger ahead of us." Geralt said between mouthfuls of soup and ale.

"Nonsense, we must return to our town, everything we own and everyone we care about is in that town. We won't sit idly by, living like lords while the people of Vergendorf are threatened with this wicked evil." The Baron said as he stroked his scar, seemingly in thought of past events.

"You'll find us Vergendorf folk are a hardy crowd and more than a match for these terrors in the night. My magic helps keep them at bay and I must return to ensure this continues until I find a way of lifting this curse. And besides which you will never get through the fog without my help, so I really do not have any choice but to return." The Sorceress said rather haughtily, sticking her nose in the air and looking at Geralt like something she had just stepped in.

"Then I suggest once we are finished with this fine meal, we prepare to leave at once. The sooner we get to Vergendorf the quicker we can find out what is really going on and hopefully who or what is responsible." Geralt replied as he broke off a piece of bread and dunked it in his chicken soup.

"Well spoken, Geralt. We shall prepare as soon as we are finished here." The smiling Councilman said.

The next half hour was taken up with stuffing their faces with all they could eat and for a few all they could drink. Obviously not everyone intended to be conscious throughout the journey. No doubt this group would be riding in the coaches. Geralt had his fill of ale but only enough to wash down his meal. He had a feeing he was going to be needed to stay sober during this contract. The conversation was quiet and polite as one would expect in such distinguished company. Geralt wondered if any of them really knew what to expect. There were all manner of explanations for what was happening but none of them could prepare these people for the true horror of what threatened their town.

Geralt was the first to leave the table. He told the party he would meet them by the main stables within the next hour.

Geralt packed up his belongings into their various bags and packs. He fastened his swords and their scabbards to his back and placed the other three daggers in their sheaths alongside the one he already carried. He wore a fine coat of leather armour over his shirt and a thick fur travelling cloak over the armour. He secured his two potion cases with all their valuable substances inside. It could mean the difference between life and death once they reached Vergendorf. Another box contained various rings, circlets, earrings, charms, wards, amulets of various magical nature. All served a specific purpose and perhaps all would be needed if Vergendorf was as bad as they said it was. A large thick leather purse contained what coins he had remaining, though he had fifteen thousand Orens to come merely for turning up in Vergendorf, so money shouldn't be any problem. That actually worried him more than he thought it would.

Why pay so much. Only the thought of such wealth kept the doubts at bay. He sorted out the bags of herbs that were needed for his alchemy. By the time he had sorted everything out there was a small mountain of possessions stacked on the floor in the centre of the room. To start with would be a trip to the stables to prepare the horses, while the thought was in his head maybe he should rename them. He always called his mare Roach, for some reason he preferred mares. But the horses had been a gift from Vesemir and it felt wrong to rename them. Perhaps when he reached Vergendorf he would buy another mare, one could never have too many horses he thought.

Geralt arrived at the stables to see an army of servants fussing over the Vergendorf party. The party where at the centre of two coaches, six wagons and two horse-drawn snow ploughs. There must have been thirty servants at least. To add to this confused maelstrom of hurrying people and shouting orders were a troop of thirty heavy cavalrymen in plate armour, carrying lance, sword and shield. All wore the customary uniform of a black hooded fur cloak.

Geralt wasted no time in loading up his horses. Most of the gear was packed neatly onto Ivory the thickset powerful pack mule. After three trips back to the inn for the rest of his possessions he was ready to go. The seeming chaos of earlier had been replaced by a calm and orderly preparation as wagons were loaded with provisions and eventually the servants themselves. The small caravan waited for the Vergendorf party to board the coaches and then the signal went up to head to the North Gate. The snow ploughs led from the front followed by ten cavalrymen. Then came the six wagons followed by another ten cavalrymen. At the rear were the two extravagant looking coaches, with their noble and illustrious passengers. These were followed by the final ten cavalrymen.

The snow ensured that the streets that would have normally been packed with pedestrians and curious onlookers were almost empty of any traffic. The mile or more of winding streets eventually came to a halt at the formidable city walls where a hive of activity was taking place. It seemed like the whole of the city guard were in preparation to protect the city from unseen forces or maybe the ragged gathering of humanity that waited for salvation on the other side of the city walls. Geralt took up the rear of the caravan for now. He wasn't really in the mood for company at the moment so making polite conversation with the Vergendorfers would have appeared slightly forced and he didn't want to appear rude, at least not yet.

As the sergeant of the cavalrymen spoke to his counterpart at the gate, two groups of about fifty men each with halberds marched out ahead of the caravan as the massive northern city gates opened outwards. They took up position on either side of the road as the snow ploughs led the caravan forward. It took five minutes to clear the gates and the sight that met them on the other side was simply tragic. All around the base of the wall refugees had set up camp in what barely passed as tents. It was their only shelter from the cruel winter snow and freezing temperature.

Whole families huddled around burning fires with all manner of dubious looking meat cooking on spits. Some were undoubtedly eating rats, cats and dogs in their desperation to stay alive. Mothers hugged their toddlers and babies closely in bundles of ragged looking blankets and flea and lice infested furs and shabby wool cloaks. Fathers sat helplessly with their families looking distraught at the prospect of another night out in these hellish conditions. Their pride was hurting, as the men of the family they considered it their place to provide for the family, but what could they do in such desperate circumstances.

Geralt noticed the wagons piled with the dead and more beside that were home to the wounded and dying. The whole place reeked of desperation and hopelessness. But it wasn't the first time Geralt had witnessed such misery and it undoubtedly wouldn't be the last. Some of the younger men approached the two companies of halberdiers, some begged, some shouted, some reasoned, some threatened, all wanted to be let inside the city walls. But their pleas fell on deaf ears, and they were simply too ragged a bunch to have any hope of overpowering the city guard.

As the caravan cleared the gates, the city guard retreated back behind their impenetrable walls. The gates slammed shut behind them. They were on their own now. There was no turning back from here. Geralt could only guess at what lay ahead for the caravan as it made its journey towards Vergendorf. Would there even be any occupied towns and villages left or were they all of the same mind. Geralt had the feeling that this was the last time in the near future that he would see normal civilization. He could only guess at what lay ahead for them and a creeping doubt entered his mind that perhaps this time he had overestimated his own abilities. But he wasn't one to let self doubt get in the way of the task at hand.

If there was something out there causing this chaos, then it was up to him as a Witcher to do all in his power to stop who or whatever was responsible. He spurred the cantankerous stallion onwards, holding on to the reins with one hand and on to the pack mule's reins with the other. At least five days on the road with possibly no friendly faces in sight. Not to mention the ever present threat of beasts and monsters. Undoubtedly bandits and cutthroats would make an appearance at such an opportune time. All things considered it was just like old times. And when he really thought about it he wouldn't have it any other way. It was all he knew, to be a Witcher.


End file.
